The news spread through the outer sect before noon.
"Chen Wei challenged Lin Yuan."
"Three days later."
"Outer sect arena."
Disciples gathered in small groups along the mountain paths, whispering excitedly. For outer sect members, life was usually dull—cultivation, labor, sleep, repeat. A duel between two known disciples was the closest thing to entertainment.
Especially when one of them had just killed three people the night before.
Inside the cultivation hall, Lin Yuan remained seated in meditation.
But his mind was no longer calm.
Chen Wei.
Sixth level Qi Gathering.
Unlike Zhao Hu, Chen Wei was known for being cautious and skilled. He rarely fought without preparation, and he had cultivated longer than most outer disciples.
Lin Yuan opened his eyes slowly.
Three days.
Three days to bridge a realm gap.
For ordinary cultivators, that would be impossible.
But Lin Yuan now had something others did not.
He stood up and quietly left the hall.
Behind the outer sect buildings lay a narrow valley known as Windfall Gorge.
Few disciples came here. The spiritual energy was thin and the rocky ground made cultivation uncomfortable.
But for Lin Yuan, it was perfect.
Silence.
No witnesses.
He climbed down the rough slope and stopped beside a cluster of old pine trees.
The broken sword slid into his hand.
For a moment he simply stared at it.
"You helped me see flaws," he murmured.
"But can you help me improve my sword?"
He took a deep breath.
Then swung.
The movement was clumsy.
The blade cut through empty air with no elegance at all.
In the original owner's memories, Lin Yuan had never studied sword techniques. Outer disciples were lucky to even obtain basic cultivation manuals.
The sword moved again.
Slow.
Heavy.
Awkward.
Lin Yuan frowned.
"This won't work."
A duel against Chen Wei would not be decided by brute force alone.
He closed his eyes.
And waited.
The broken sword trembled slightly.
Then the strange perception returned.
But this time it was different.
When Lin Yuan lifted the sword again, faint lines appeared in the air before him.
Invisible trajectories.
Possible attack paths.
Angles.
Distances.
It was as if the sword was showing him how movement itself could break apart.
Lin Yuan's eyes slowly opened.
"So that's it…"
The sword was not teaching him techniques.
It was showing him inefficiencies.
Flaws.
Not only in enemies—
But in himself.
He swung again.
This time, the sword moved slightly differently.
A shorter path.
Less wasted motion.
Again.
And again.
Each strike became smoother.
More direct.
More precise.
Sweat soon soaked his robe.
But Lin Yuan continued without stopping.
The sun moved across the sky.
Afternoon passed.
The wind through the gorge grew colder.
Finally—
Lin Yuan struck forward once more.
The blade cut through the air with a faint whistle.
A clean sound.
Sharp.
For the first time, the movement felt natural.
Lin Yuan slowly lowered the sword.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"It's working."
He had not learned a technique.
But he had removed countless small flaws.
Sometimes improvement was not about adding something new.
Sometimes it was about removing everything unnecessary.
He rested the sword on his shoulder and sat down against a rock.
The sky above the gorge had already begun to darken.
One day had passed.
Two remained.
But Lin Yuan suddenly frowned.
Footsteps echoed faintly from the gorge entrance.
Not one person.
Two.
Lin Yuan stood slowly.
Moments later, two figures appeared between the rocks.
The first was a young woman wearing green disciple robes.
Her long hair was tied with a simple ribbon, and her eyes were calm but sharp.
Lin Yuan recognized her immediately.
Liu Yue.
One of the few outer sect disciples rumored to be close to entering the inner sect.
Seventh level Qi Gathering.
Behind her stood a smaller boy Lin Yuan did not know.
Liu Yue looked at the ground.
Then at the broken sword in Lin Yuan's hand.
Finally she spoke.
"You've been training here all day."
It was not a question.
Lin Yuan did not deny it.
"Yes."
The young boy behind her suddenly spoke excitedly.
"Senior Sister, that's him! The one who killed Zhao Hu!"
Liu Yue raised a hand and the boy fell silent.
Her gaze returned to Lin Yuan.
"You improved."
Lin Yuan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You were watching?"
"Not all day."
She tilted her head slightly.
"But long enough."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Liu Yue said calmly,
"You won't survive the duel."
The words were spoken without malice.
Just fact.
Lin Yuan did not respond immediately.
Then he asked,
"Why?"
"Because Chen Wei is not Zhao Hu."
Her voice remained calm.
"He trains every night. His technique is stable. And his spiritual energy is stronger than yours."
She paused.
"But most importantly—"
Her eyes rested briefly on the broken sword.
"He is cautious."
Lin Yuan understood what she meant.
Chen Wei would not underestimate him the way Zhao Hu did.
This duel would not be decided by surprise.
Liu Yue turned slightly as if preparing to leave.
Then she said one more sentence.
"Three days is not enough."
She began walking away.
But Lin Yuan suddenly spoke.
"What if it is?"
She stopped.
Looked back.
Lin Yuan lifted the broken sword slightly.
"I only need one flaw."
For the first time, Liu Yue smiled faintly.
"Then you'd better find it."
She continued walking.
The small boy hurried after her.
Soon they disappeared into the darkening valley.
Lin Yuan remained standing among the rocks.
The wind blew cold against his face.
One flaw.
That was all he needed.
In the cultivation world, the difference between victory and death could sometimes be a single mistake.
He looked down at the sword again.
Then closed his eyes.
Night fell over Windfall Gorge.
And Lin Yuan continued practicing beneath the stars.
Above the gorge, the moon slowly rose over Black Tortoise Mountain.
Somewhere deep in the inner sect, ancient bells rang softly.
And in the darkness of the valley, the broken sword moved again.
Faster.
Sharper.
As if the path of a sword cultivator had finally begun.